vi WAITING FOR WOLVES 165 



my seat on the top of it. My friend the raven had 

 gone away, probably as full as an egg of dead donkey. 

 The carcase lay almost immediately below me on a 

 strip of snow which stretched away down into the 

 gorge. I was very uneasy about the hill of Patoglino, 

 as it was very easy for a wolf to come on to it without 

 my seeing him, and either spy or smell me from it. I 

 sat as still as possible so still that a party of crested 

 tits came into the branches round my head, and one 

 little fellow nearly lit on my back. At about 5.15 

 I observed a movement below me, and a most 

 lovely fox crossed the snow slope to leeward of the 

 donkey. She tapped over the snow with dainty 

 steps, and went down to where the wolf had been 

 feeding in the morning. Here she found some scraps 

 he had left, which she ate. Whilst doing so I could 

 see her beautifully. From size and shape I should 

 say she was certainly a vixen. Her face and entire 

 body was gray, and every hair was in its place ; her 

 fine brush was a deep auburn, contrasting strongly with 

 her body ; 4 inches of the tip was as white as snow. 

 Whilst eating the scraps she found, she kept a sharp 

 watch with the corner of her eye upon the carcase, 

 as if she was not quite sure that they were to be 

 entirely trusted. When the tit-bits were finished, she 

 tapped across the snow again to leeward of the 

 donkeys, recrossed it, and then, with all the hair of 

 her back on end and the white tip of her brush slued 

 round and her ears thrown well back, she stole up to 

 the hind quarters the wolf had been eating. With a 

 sudden snap she seized hold of the foot and gave it a 

 smart tug. Apparently surprised at her own boldness 

 she now turned her back on the temptation and toddled 

 off to the woods, stopping once to look back, but only 

 for a second, and then, with her brush in a straight line 



